Burning Desire of My Husband's Uncle
In a game of deception, one forbidden desire could change everything.
Forced into an arranged marriage with a wealthy heir she doesn't love, Lena is determined to escape. Her plan? Disguise herself as an unattractive woman to drive her husband away and earn a swift divorce.
But things don't go as planned.
Neil River-the enigmatic uncle of her husband-is a sharp, dangerous man who knows far more than he should. Not only does he see through Lena's disguise, but he also uncovers her double life as the mysterious owner of an elite karaoke club that men whisper about in secret.
Instead of exposing her, Neil becomes intrigued.
He tempts her, pushes her, until Lena finds herself caught in a dangerous game-one where the lines between revenge, lust, and love begin to blur.
Can Lena escape the pull of a man she was never meant to love-her husband's uncle?
"So? Did you manage to seduce your husband today?"
"No, Uncle. I got all dolled up since dawn, but he... he looked at me like I was disgusting."
"Then what if I'm the one... who's tempted?"
"Uncle... you're joking, right?"
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Chapter 2
"Where's the owner of this place?!" a man roared, his voice thundering through the luxurious karaoke lounge. Several hostesses standing by the walls exchanged nervous glances.
"How can a high-class place like this have hostesses who look like that?!" he continued, pointing at the shocked women with a rough gesture.
A sweating manager stepped forward, trying to calm the situation. "Please, sir... we still have other hostesses. If you'd like, we can replace them."
The man sneered. "For what? They all look just as bad as the last one." His eyes narrowed. "My boss wants to speak directly with the owner. Now."
The manager darted a nervous glance toward a sharply dressed man sitting quietly on the sofa-Neil, the youngest son of a powerful conglomerate family. He hadn't spoken a single word, but his mere presence dominated the room. The manager swallowed hard.
"V-very well, I'll call the owner right away," he stammered, bowing before hurrying out.
"Don't worry, Boss," said the man standing beside Neil-his loyal assistant. "If you're really dissatisfied, we can sue the owner. But so far, this is one of the top-rated places."
Neil said nothing. His eyes lingered on the chandelier above, jaw tight, expression cold and unreadable.
A few minutes later, there was a gentle knock at the door.
Knock, knock.
The door opened, and all eyes turned to the young woman stepping inside. A sleek black bodycon dress hugged her curves perfectly. Her long, wavy dark brown hair cascaded down her back, giving her an elegant yet alluring presence.
"Good evening. I'm Selena, the owner of Selena's Dream. How may I help you?" she greeted with a polite smile.
But the moment her eyes met Neil's, her expression faltered ever so slightly.
God... what is he doing here?! she panicked silently.
He mustn't know that Lena is actually... me!
Neil's assistant shot up from his seat, stunned. "Y-you're the owner?" he stammered. "You're so young..."
Selena responded only with a faint smile.
The assistant quickly remembered their purpose. "You see, my boss is not satisfied with the hostesses provided tonight."
Selena's eyes flicked briefly to Neil before resting back on the assistant. "If the women we selected didn't meet your expectations, we can offer-"
"How about you keep me company instead?" Neil cut in, his voice deep and calm. Sharp, yet smooth.
The room went silent.
Neil's assistant froze. Even the hostesses by the door gasped.
"Boss..." the assistant whispered cautiously. "She's the owner..."
"So what?" Neil's gaze pierced straight into Selena, unreadable.
Selena drew a slow breath, forcing composure. "I'm sorry, sir... but I'm not a hostess," she replied softly, though her heart pounded violently.
"Well, Boss, perhaps we should look at others. Maybe someone more beautiful-" the assistant suggested nervously.
But Neil didn't budge. "I want her."
His voice wasn't loud, but it was firm, final, undeniable.
The assistant began to panic. He knew all too well-if his boss didn't get what he wanted, this wouldn't end with mere complaints. It could turn into something far worse.
"U-uh, Boss, maybe it's better if-"
"All right."
The soft voice cut him off.
Everyone turned toward Selena. Even Neil raised an eyebrow slightly.
"I'll accompany you tonight... just tonight," Selena said with a small smile. "As a gesture of goodwill for this establishment's service."
The assistant exhaled in relief. "Th-thank you, Miss Selena. That... that's a good solution."
Selena signaled for the hostesses to leave. They exchanged uneasy looks but eventually filed out one by one.
Now only the three of them remained.
Selena sat beside Neil, her expression calm though her eyes carefully studied his every move.
"Our boss rarely visits places like this," the assistant tried to ease the tension. "Tonight is special."
"Is that so," Selena replied with a faint smile. "Then let's make tonight memorable."
She picked up the karaoke remote, selected an old romantic song, and began to sing. Her gentle voice filled the room, softening the air that had moments ago been heavy with tension.
The assistant joined in awkwardly, laughing nervously.
But Neil said nothing. His eyes never left Selena. Without a word, he observed her every movement. Deep down, he admitted-this woman was not just beautiful.
She was graceful. Untouchable. Mysterious.
And for some reason, he wanted her-not just for karaoke. But for far more than that.
---
Lena's footsteps echoed faintly along the upper corridor of the grand mansion. Towering white walls lined with golden-framed classical paintings loomed on either side. She muttered softly under her breath.
"God, this house is enormous. If someone got lost in here, they'd never find their way out," she said, glancing around.
She wiped sweat from her temple. The air conditioning was cool, yet her chest burned with unease and anxiety. Since marrying Axel-forced by family pressure-Lena had never truly felt like she belonged here.
Suddenly, from the end of the hallway, a tall figure approached with confident strides. Neil. Again.
Damn it! Not this annoying man again! she panicked silently, quickly lowering her gaze and pretending to study the floor.
Neil walked closer. His steps were so light they made no sound. Maybe he won't even notice me, Lena hoped.
But as he passed by, her relief was short-lived.
"Hey, you..."
Lena froze. Oh God, why is he talking to me?! Her heart hammered in her chest.
Slowly, she turned with a stiff smile. "Yes, Uncle?"
Neil narrowed his eyes. "You're Axel's wife, aren't you?"
"Yes, Uncle," Lena replied, her voice trembling.
"I see... all right then."
Without another word, Neil turned and descended the stairs, his face unreadable. Lena frowned in confusion but didn't dwell on it. She hurried toward her room, desperate to avoid any more uncomfortable encounters that night.
But her steps faltered as the door swung open.
"Ahh... Axel... faster!"
The moans were unmistakable, along with the rhythmic creaking of the bed.
Lena's eyes widened in horror. Right before her stood Axel, entangled with a stunning long-haired woman. The woman's red dress lay crumpled on the floor.
Lena screamed.
"AAAAAAA!"
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8.2
I was trapped in a velvet booth at Le Bernardin, Arthur Sterling’s hand crawling up my knee as he whispered that my father would be in handcuffs by morning if I didn't spend the night with him.
Desperate to escape, I lunged at the only man more dangerous than Arthur—Gunnar Kirk, the "Butcher of Wall Street"—and kissed him in front of every camera in the room, thinking I was choosing the lesser of two evils.
I was wrong; Gunnar didn't just play along, he took possession, forcing me into a cold-blooded contract to be his fake fiancée to save his corporate image from an SEC investigation. While my greedy stepmother and sister were busy fighting over the diamonds he sent, I was living in terror, trying to hide the one thing that truly mattered: my infant son, hidden away with a nanny in a cramped Queens apartment. When my baby suffered a febrile seizure and I rushed to the ER, I looked up to see Gunnar standing in the doorway, his glacial eyes boring into me as he realized the "ruined" socialite was hiding a child from her past.
I tried to sabotage the wedding, setting up my fame-hungry stepsister as a decoy bride so I could flee to Switzerland with my son, but Gunnar caught me on the fire escape before I could take a single step toward freedom. He threw me over his shoulder like a sack of flour and told me that if I didn't walk down that aisle, he would personally ensure my father rotted in prison.
We stood at the altar and exchanged vows in a ceremony built on blackmail and lies, but as we walked out as husband and wife, Gunnar didn't look at me with affection; he turned to his assistant and ordered a total deep dive into the medical records I had spent a year trying to erase.
"Find out exactly what happened during those nine months in Switzerland, and tell me who that baby really belongs to."
9.1
He lifted his hand and brushed a strand of hair from my face, fingers grazing too gently. I snapped, "How many times do I have to tell you not to touch me?" His mouth curved, the faintest smirk. "You walked in here looking like a fucking temptation. And you think I'm not supposed to touch?" I tilted my chin, refusing to back down. "Funny. I thought you said I didn't look good." He leaned closer, voice low, eyes burning through me. "You don't look good. You look dangerous." My chest tightened, heat crawling under my skin. I rolled my eyes, masking the pull I refused to admit. "Get lost," I muttered, shoving against him. "You're mine, Tessa,"
******
His Biker Girl | swore l'd never get tangled up with bikers. Then I met him.
Jason "Viper" Kane, the ruthless prince of the Black Serpents.
Arrogant. Untouchable. Dangerous. Every girl on campus wants him, but not me. He thought I'd be easy to break. He was wrong.
Her Biker Prince She's fire wrapped in leather, and every time she rides, she tempts me closer to the edge. Tessa Monroe, bold, defiant, impossible to control. I wanted to crush her pride, ruin that ego, make her beg. But the more I chase her, the more I burn. She's the one thing I shouldn't want. And the only thing l'll never let go.
7.8
I had exactly forty-five minutes to get married, or I would lose the voting shares needed to stop my father from laundering millions through our family foundation. Everything was riding on this one legal signature at the City Clerk’s office.
But just as I reached the front of the line, my phone buzzed with a high-definition photo of my fiancé, Preston, tangled in sheets with a junior associate at a SoHo hotel. The man I was about to tie my life to was a fraud, and my deadline was ticking toward zero.
When I shoved the evidence in his face, he didn't even flinch. Instead, he gripped my wrist until the bone ground together, whispering that I was just a "junkie" fresh out of a Swiss clinic and that no one else would ever marry a liability with a personality disorder. My father was already standing by with a fraudulent medical affidavit, ready to force me into a conservatorship and strip me of my freedom the moment the clock hit 5 PM.
They had spent years using my fake "instability" as a leash, treating me like a broken doll while they bled the company dry. I was the only one with the evidence to take them down, yet I was being discarded like a sunk cost by the very men who were supposed to protect me.
I looked at Preston’s smug face and realized I didn't need a husband; I needed a predator. I scanned the room and spotted Dominik Mack, the "Vulture of Wall Street," a man who specialized in hostile takeovers and stripping men like my father of everything they owned.
I walked straight up to the most dangerous man in New York and offered him a business transaction.
"Do you want to get married?" I asked.
He looked at my trembling hands, then at the man chasing me, and adjusted his collar with clinical detachment.
"Deal," he said.
I didn't just find a groom; I found an accomplice. This wasn't a wedding anymore—it was a declaration of war.
8.8
Betrayed. Broken. After her chosen mate chooses her stepsister for the mating ritual. She a half-breed omega is cast out of the only pack she's ever known. But running away and becoming a lone wolf was a far easier fate. Not until....
When the youngest of three rival Alpha lycan brothers finds her bleeding and alone, he claims her as his. Yet at a royal summit, the other two brothers scents her too and the word slips from their lips in unison. Confusion spirals into chaos. Three powerful Alphas, bound by blood but divided by ambition, are suddenly linked to the same woman. She becomes their weakness, their obsession, their prize.
But being fated to all three cursed lycans isn't a blessing, it's a war. Between the brothers. Between their packs. Between love and survival.
She has to decide if she will let them destroy her... or if she'll rise from the ashes of rejection and betrayal to make them kneel.
A story of obsession, desire, and power where one weak omega stands at the center of a dangerous game and the hearts of three ruthless Alphas
7.6
Age Gap Romance/Arranged Marriage/Strong Heroine/Found Family/Revenge/Slow Burn Romance
Nineteen-year-old Clarice Sullivan was forced by her scumbag father to marry Theodore Grant, a man of thirty-one. On their wedding night, Theodore, transformed into a ravenous wolf, left her utterly exhausted. "I thought you said you couldn't?" she muttered, rubbing her aching lower back. "Aren't men in their thirties supposed to know some restraint?" Theodore, irritated, pinned her down again. "Round two!" he growled.
After marriage, Theodore switched into full protective-and-doting-husband mode.
"Darling, my worthless father is trying to hit me again!"
"Just wait," Theodore snapped, his temper flaring. He promptly dismantled the entire Sullivan family.
"Darling, she drugged me-tried to hand me over to another man!" Clarice pointed accusingly at her wicked half-sister. Theodore's fury erupted. He slapped the woman hard across the face and ensured her reputation was ruined beyond repair.
With Theodore's unwavering devotion backing her, Clarice repaid every slight and cruelty a thousandfold. When others criticized her for being spoiled, Theodore scoffed, "I'm the one who spoiled her-got a problem with that?"
7.4
"You? A Luna? You think I ever wanted you?"
"Don't flatter yourself, Rhaella. You were nothing but a mistake fate dumped on me!"
– – – – – – – – – – – –
Betrayed by her mate and shipped to the ruthless Lycranox Pack.
A place where no Omega dares to go.
Rhaella wants only one thing... revenge. Her plan? Seduce the one man her ex fears most: Logan. His powerful VIP. Dangerous and untouchable.
But Logan doesn't play fair. He hunts. He takes. And with every look, every touch, Rhaella slips deeper into a game she swore she was controlling.
She came to ruin him for her vengeance... but what happens when the seducer becomes the seduced?